


What We Do in the Streets

by DameOfNoDelicacy



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, One-Shot, Public indecency, Yaoi, occasional strong language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13291869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameOfNoDelicacy/pseuds/DameOfNoDelicacy
Summary: This is porn.This is just porn.I have no one to blame but myself.Except, maybe, forthis whole situation.Enjoy?? ;D





	What We Do in the Streets

"Shunsui," Jūshirō says, teeth clenched and eyes darting rapidly up and down the alleyway, "you shouldn't. Not here."

"Oh?" Shunsui laughs, and buries another kiss in his best friend's neck. "And when," he murmurs, lips moving softly against his his friend's pale skin, "have I ever been put off by 'shouldn't'?"

"Never," Jūshirō manages to say, smiling despite himself, and drawing a shallow, tentative breath as Shunsui tips his head lower, and nibbles on Jūshirō's collarbone.  "You've never once been put off by 'shouldn't,' have you, my friend?"

"Nope." Shunsui pops his head back up grins wickedly. "Not that I can recall." And with that, he drops his hands and began to tug gently at the knot in Jūshirō's belt.

"Forgive me." Jūshirō's eyes slip shut as Shunsui works. "I should have known my efforts would be in vain. I should have stayed silent."

"Silent?"

"Mm. Yes, silent."

"Hardly, Jū-chan."

"You'd prefer if I protested, would you?"

"Protested? Not so much, no."

"What, then?"

"Think more broadly." 

By way of clarification, Shunsui bends his head forwards, and captures Jūshirō's mouth in a deep, deliberate kiss. He lets his hands part the folds of Jūshirō's kosode and shitagi, and he feels around briefly, hot hands ghosting over cool flesh. His grin grows wickeder still when he finds Jūshirō's nipples, latches on, and twists. 

And Jūshirō, in an involuntary act of instantaneous comprehension, squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, and does his damnedest to stifle his cry of pleasure. 

"See?" Shunsui murmurs, easing up a little and letting his thumbs trace gentle circles around Jūshirō's nipples now. "I don't want you silent."

Jūshirō opens his clever eyes, and smiles weakly. "I think," he says, "I'm beginning to understand." 

Shunsui just smirks, and leans hard into Jūshirō's body, and forces his friend to take two, three, four steps backwards, until his back is pressed, firmly and straight, against the wall. 

The straps of Jūshirō's hakama are hanging loose and useless now, and it is only because of Shunsui's deft maneuvering that the hakama manages to stay up at all, balanced delicately on Jūshirō's slender hips. Shunsui's hands are still busy, but gradually, they begin to shift, one hand spreading wide to worry the rosy flesh of both of Jūshirō's nipples all by itself, and the other dropping lower, dragging its drowsy way down across firm pectorals, taut stomach, and, finally, just over the delicate trail of dark hair that disappears into the undone folds of Jūshirō's hakama. 

Jūshirō let his gentle hands float upwards to rest on either side of Shunsui's shadowy face and kisses him again, gently, soft lips leaving lingering sweetness in their wake. Their lips stay locked as Jūshirō's hands travel downward too, pausing at Shunsui's chest to catch and cling in curls of dark hair. One of Jūshirō's hands stays inside Shunsui's uniform, slipping underneath folds of fabric and curving around Shunsui's side to his back, where it traces the strong and sinewy line of his spine, and Shunsui sighs, one part grateful and one part weary as all hell, as Jūshirō touches him. Jūshirō's other hand, making rapid and efficient work of the whole thing, runs its way downwards and undoes the knot in Shunsui's belt in a matter of mere seconds.

Jūshirō smiles again, a trace of wickedness alighting in his own face.

"Nice," Shunsui says darkly.

"Thank you," Jūshirō replies, humor glinting in his eyes and ringing in his voice.

And then, through an uncanny and unspoken agreement honed by centuries of practice, Shunsui and Jūshirō simultaneously drop their hands into the folds of each other's clothes, take hold of each other's cocks, and begin to stroke.

They work quickly, knowing that time is of the essence. Shunsui keeps his free hand busy pinching and grabbing at Jūshirō's nipples with skillful fingers, and Jūshirō keeps his free hand busy by sliding his hand up and down over Shunsui's back, fingernails clawing slowly and deliberately, marking Shunsui's skin with just enough force to draw soft moans from Shunsui's parted lips, but not quite enough to actually break his flesh. 

"I could swear," Shunsui says thickly, "you've -  _ ah -  _ you've gotten better at this, Jū-chan - "

"More, Shunsui - more,  _ please  _ \- "

"Not even a -  _ ahh,  _ fuck me, Jū-chan, that's good - "

"Kiss my neck, Shunsui -  _ now  _ \- "

"I - I don't know if I can - "

"Don't you -  _ ah,  _ yes, just like that - th-thank you -"

"Jū-chan - "

"Don't you dare come yet, Shunsui - don't you  _ \- ahh - " _

"I'm - I'm gettin' close, Jū-chan - "

"I know."

"I - I mean -  _ ahh,  _ Jūshirō, I'm gettin'  _ real  _ close - "

"I know - I  _ know,  _ my friend - I can feel you - "

"You're gonna come for me, too, right, Jūshirō?"

"Yes - yes, give me - give me time, Shunsui - "

"Jūshirō - "

"Shunsui - "

"Jūshirō, I - I  _ can't  _ \- "

"I need more, Shunsui - give me more,  _ please  _ \- "

"Jūshirō, I'm - I'm gonna -  _ ngh - !" _

Shunsui's body jerks and arcs and stiffens as he comes, his seed coating Jūshirō's hand in sticky, hot white. Jūshirō, dutiful partner and devoted friend that he is, strokes Shunsui through his release, and he says nothing when Shunsui's hand stills on his cock, and, in the end falls away, limp and weak, to rest at his side.

But for all that, Jūshirō, afterwards, still finds himself tense and wanting. His eyes are still hooded with desperate desire, and his chest and his stomach still quiver with short, sharp pants and with unspent potential. "Shunsui," he whispers fervently, when his friend's eyes slip open again. "Shunsui, I... I haven't…" He licks his lips, praying that Shunsui might read his question in the subtle gesture. "My friend? Please, if you would…?"

Shunsui blinks stupidly for about half a second. His grey gaze is hazy and lazy, and his body sways sleepily back and forth beneath the afternoon sun.

And then, just like that, Shunsui drops to his knees. 

Jūshirō grins, a shameless, wide, wild grin, as he feels Shunsui's lips close around his cock. He brushes Shunsui's hat with gentle fingertips, knocking it backwards and pushing it clear off of his friend's grizzly head. He lets his fingers catch and twirl in Shunsui's hair, and he stuffs his other hand, still coated in Shunsui's drying seed, into his mouth, to keep himself from making sound; with small, subtle flicks of his tongue, he licks the liquid from his hand, revelling in the familiar, bitter flavor of his friend. 

It doesn't take long before Shunsui's skilful lips and tongue - and, Jūshirō notes happily, Shunsui’s clever fingers, running lightly across the sensitive stretch of flesh between his balls and his ass - drag Jūshirō back towards the brink of his orgasm. Shunsui deepens his movements, and Jūshirō gasps, his balls tightening as the head of his cock is cushioned by the soft, warm, wet of Shunsui's throat. Jūshirō's hips roll and rock, and his breath halts harshly inside his chest, and his fingers dig fiercely into Shunsui's hair, and he bites down on his own hand, nearly drawing blood as he struggles to contain the cry that accompanies his violent release. 

Shunsui sucks Jūshirō dry, swallowing all of his seed and licking his cock clean as it wilts in the aftermath. That done, he staggers upright, presses one broad hand to the wall, leans forward, and shares another kiss with best friend. This kiss is sweet and soft, but it is long, and it lingers and languishes on their lips. Shunsui touches tired fingertips to Jūshirō's side, running the pads of his fingers up and down his best friend's ribcage. "You good?" he murmurs, punctuating the question with another gentle kiss. 

Jūshirō, breathing shallowly but evenly, nods. "Thank you," he says, and he opens his eyes. His face glows with an uncharacteristic, healthy luster, and his eyes shine with a perfectly characteristic kindness. He glances askance, and the glow in his face fades, just a little. "We'd best be off, hadn't we?" he asks quietly.

Shunsui pouts and rolls his eyes, his expression a little too extreme to be fully serious, but a little too serious to be fully false. "Guess so," he says. He shrugs his uniform back into some semblance of propriety and does up the knot in his belt again. "Nice little detour we made, though, don't ya think?"

Jūshirō, who is busy reassembling the disheveled dregs of his own uniform, shoots an artful smile at his best friend. "Was it?" he asks lightly.

Panic flashes across Shunsui's face. "C'mon," he says. "I mean - I know you didn't, uh - I  _ mean,  _ I know my performance was a little shoddy at the beginning there, but - "

Jūshirō laughs. "I know," he says, turning on his heel and beginning to stride down the alleyway, towards the First Division headquarters. "I know."

"But, then - hang on, Jū-chan!" Shunsui snatches his hat up from the cobblestones, and, shambling and awkward, hurries to catch up with his friend. "What are you sayin', huh?"

"I'm not sure," Jūshirō says thoughtfully, "that I've made up my mind about how I feel. Engaging in this sort of conduct in public might be for me - but, then again, it might not." He turns his bright eyes on Shunsui, raises his eyebrows, and grins. "We'll just have to try it again sometime, won't we?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is, uh. Only my second ever time posting smut so, uh. Please be gentle with me?  
> Maybe one day I'll actually, like, get creative with this stuff?? For now, enjoy the shameless public handjobs??  
> *hides*


End file.
